


A Drunken Excursion

by BeanieBaby



Series: Senator Obi-Wan AU [7]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Brotherly Bonding, Cody in a dress, Drinking Games, Drunk Fox is adorable, Fluff and Crack, Fox admires Mace Windu's, Gen, Hangover, M/M, Work Ethic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:54:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25231942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeanieBaby/pseuds/BeanieBaby
Summary: Turning to everyone, Kenobi declared, “drinks are on me tonight, boys. Feel free to order anything off the menu.”“Sir, permission to profess my undying love for you,” Cody called out, grinning as he blew Kenobi a kiss.“Out of of line, marshal commander,” Fox hissed furiously as the Naboo senator laughed.“What are you gonna do, vod?" Cody stuck out his tongue. "I outrank you.”
Relationships: CC-1010 | Fox & CC-3636 | Wolffe, CC-1010 | Fox & Kit Fisto, CC-1010 | Fox & Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-1010 | Fox/Kit Fisto, CC-2224 | Cody & Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-5052 | Bly & Aayla Secura
Series: Senator Obi-Wan AU [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1785886
Comments: 56
Kudos: 874
Collections: Suggested Good Reads





	A Drunken Excursion

**Author's Note:**

> Have another crack piece where everything is soft and nothing hurts. 
> 
> Wolffe and Bacara were the leaders of their batch on Kamino. I headcanon that Fox used to worship Wolffe who was super dashing and cool when he was a baby.
> 
> Also, in this verse, Fox has heterochromia. He's got one blue eye and one brown.

“About damn time, Wolffe,” Cody called out the moment Wolffe slipped inside the private room where the vode had agreed to host this year’s Batch Day.

This year’s event took place at a bar a few levels above 79’s. Cody and Fox detested 79’s, Cody because all the drunk troopers would still try to salute him, and Fox because he arrested the first patron who tried to flirt with him for solicitation and earned himself a bad rep. Batch Day was a made-up tradition they’d come up with as shinies on Kamino. For Wolffe, it was mostly an excuse to get wasted with his brothers at the expense of the GAR. Fox usually allowed a little wiggle room in the budget report if they refrained from going too overboard.

Cody was sprawled next to Ponds on a large couch, a drink wedged precariously between his spread thighs. “Thought you’d forgotten the location in your advanced age, vod.”

“We’re the same age, dickbreath,” Wolffe shot back, pulling out the plus-one from behind him like a street magician.

“Who’s the shiny?” Bacara prompted, eyeing the red accents on the clone's armor suspiciously. He had a tattooed arm over the back of Fox’s seat, their sides touching. With everyone in their off-duty grays, it was probably a jarring sight to see a clone appear in full gear.

“Those are Guard colors,” Fox muttered, tensing beside the marshal commander, “something wrong, trooper?”

“What’s a shiny?” Kenobi asked, whisking his bucket off and brushing back shimmery copper hair from his handsome face.

The reaction from Fox was almost immediate. He shot to his feet and accidentally knocked his drink over. Bacara yelped as ice-cold alcohol sloshed over his unprotected crotch.

“Have you lost your mind, Wolffe?!” He rounded the table with both eyes blazing. “This is a blatant violation of protocol. Did you check in with the Senator’s protective detail? He’s in a nightclub I haven’t cleared for safety—”

“Fox,” Kenobi tried to say, but the head of the military police silenced him with a fierce glare.

“No, you don’t get an opinion, Senator. Not after that close call last week with Asajj Ventress,” Fox snapped before turning back to Wolffe, “Did anyone recognize him on your way down here?”

“No,” The commander of the Wolfpack rolled his eyes into the back of his head, “I’m not an idiot. I know how to sneak a politician in and out of places undetected.”

“Why the hell would you know how to do that?” Cody called out. He waved cheekily at Obi-Wan, "Hi, Senator Kenobi." 

“Hello, Commander Cody,” Kenobi returned, beaming. Fox’s glare increased tenfold as he took a step to the left and blocked Cody out of Obi-Wan’s line of sight.

“Everyone in senior command is here,” Wolffe pointed out, “nothing’s gonna happen. And if something does,” He patted the blaster at his side, “the Senator will be in good hands.”

“I also have a couple of knives on me as well,” Kenobi added smartly.

“No,” Fox pointed a finger at him in warning, “no more knives.”

“It’s just, I feel like I never get to see you anymore, commander,” The senator said sadly, reaching over and straightening Fox’s crooked collar. “You’re always so busy running the Guards. I miss our tea breaks.”

He was a phenomenal actor and master manipulator, if Wolffe was to be honest. He could almost see the exact moment Fox’s iron will crumbed like a flimsy house of cards. Kenobi really had Fox eating out of his hand.

“Relax, dear one,” He smiled, “I know I am perfectly safe because you’re here with me.”

Fox’s ears reddened. Wolffe saw Ponds and Bly exchange an impressed look behind Kenobi’s back. Their brother heaved a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Fine, you can stay.”

“Wow, he really is physically incapable of saying no,” Gree piped up from the back, “I thought you guys were exaggerating in the command chat.” He wandered over and added, “nice to finally meet you in person, Senator Kenobi.”

“Commander Gree, the pleasure is all mine,” Obi-Wan replied easily, “what chat are you referring to? May I join?”

“No!” Fox barked, almost tripping over his own two feet in his haste. “You can’t.”

“Why?” The senator looked a little hurt at his sudden outburst. Fox’s face flushed a horrible puce. He looked about two seconds away from having an actual panic attack.

“It’s mostly gossip and nonsense,” Wolffe came to his brother’s rescue.

“Ah, I see,” He nodded, “I completely understand.” Then, turning to everyone, Kenobi declared, “drinks are on me tonight, boys. Feel free to order anything off the menu.”

A delighted cheer swept through the room.

“Sir, permission to profess my undying love for you,” Cody called out, grinning as he blew Kenobi a kiss.

“Out of of line, marshal commander,” Fox hissed furiously as the Naboo senator laughed.

“What are you gonna do, vod? I outrank you,” Cody stuck out his tongue. Wolffe shook his head and guided Kenobi over to Bacara’s table before the cat fight escalated.

“No, you don’t,” Fox denied vehemently, “I am technically higher on the chain of command.”

“Yeah, but we’re on different chains, my young grasshopper,” Cody shot back, wiggling his eyebrows in challenge, “you don’t have jurisdiction over the GAR marshal command.”

“Command chat is basically this, only a thousand times more petty,” Bacara explained, scrubbing a hand over his tired eyes.

“This is Marshal Commander Bacara,” Wolffe introduced.

“Just Bacara is fine, senator,” The marine said, “I don’t like titles.”

“Only if you call me Obi-Wan in return,” The senator replied smoothly. A spark of interest lit up in Bacara’s blue eyes. He and Fox were the only two in their batch to develop genetic variances.

He nodded. “Deal, Obi-Wan.”

“Let’s see, the rest of the bastards here,” Wolffe muttered, pointing them out to the senator, "Ponds is the one next to Cody. I believe you’ve met Bly, who is playing pool with Gree in the back. Thorn, Stone, and Thire will be here when their shifts end, and Monnk and Colt are going to pop in once they finish their mission reports. Appo and Neyo are both off-planet.”

“He’s not going to remember all that,” Bacara dismissed before leaning in and saying, “so what’s this thing about you and knives?”

“I have pretty good aim,” Kenobi said innocently.

It was the understatement of the century. As the senator's regular sparring partner, Wolffe could attest to that. He still didn’t know how he’d ended up taking on that particularly stressful role. Fox and Cody were the top dogs when it came to close-quarter combat; Fox because his job thwarting assassination attempts on various helpless senators required it, and Cody, well, Cody was just good at everything. Too bad Fox adamantly refused to lay hands on Kenobi for any reason, and Cody was too often off-planet for long periods of time or lying in medical due to a science mission gone wrong to maintain a regular sparring schedule.

“Care for a game of darts, then?” Bacara challenged.

“Sure, what are the stakes?”

“Let’s start with something light, person that loses takes a shot,” The marine decided, knocking back his drink in one swallow.

“You might want to take it easy, Bacara,” Kenobi said with a small smirk. “You’ll have plenty of drinking to do.”

“Cocky,” Bacara held out a hand, “I like that.”

“This is a kriffing nightmare,” Fox muttered darkly as he collapsed next to Wolffe. He glanced over to corner where the Naboo senator and Bacara had sauntered off to and frowned, “what are they doing?”

“Relax, just a game of darts. Besides, Bacara’s probably the one who’s gonna get alcohol poisoning,” Wolffe patted him on a jittery knee and nudged his own drink over. Fox shook his head.

“I’m not drinking tonight. Gotta keep an eye on things. I don’t trust these drunk horny bastards not to try something wildly inappropriate.”

“Oh, come on, vod!” Wolffe groaned exaggeratedly and leaned into him, “the only reason I even come to these things is to get you wasted.”

Fox eyed him like a demented person. “You’re a dick.”

“And yet you love me anyway,” Wolffe patted him on one cheek. They watched Bacara tip his head back and drain his second drink of the night while Obi-Wan stood by with an angelic smile on his face.

“‘Love’ is not the word I would use, Wolffe,” Fox rolled his eyes before adding, “but yeah, I agree. Bacara’s got no idea what he’s up against.”

* * *

“Monnk!”

Wolffe glanced up at Bly’s cheer. The SCUBA commander grinned as he slipped inside dressed in his grays. He tossed his cap at the nearest surface and trudged over to their table.

“Hey guys,” He plopped down next to Ponds and asked, “where’s Bacara?”

“Puking his guts out in the fresher,” Gree murmured, wincing. They all paused in a moment of silence for the poor marshal commander who had lost spectacularly to the Naboo senator in their game of darts.

“He’ll live,” Cody reassured, sliding a shot over to Monnk.

“Oh, before I forget,” Monnk murmured, pulling something out of his pocket and handing it over to Fox, “General Fisto wanted me to give this to you.”

“What is it?” Fox frowned at the tiny gold-wrapped box.

“Some trinket he picked up for you on a planet in the Mid Rim,” Monnk drained his glass and lifted both eyebrows. “Oh, very smooth. This is the expensive top-shelf stuff.”

“Yeah, Senator Kenobi’s picking up the tab,” Cody grinned and gave him another.

“Nice!”

“Is it me or does everyone have the hots for Fox?” Wolffe pondered aloud, jerking his chair back just in time to avoid a vicious kick to the knee. Fox narrowed his mismatched eyes at him across the table.

“Yup, I can confirm,” Stone piped up from next to Bly, “we have a few space pirates in holding that are super thirsty for his attention. And there’s that rogue Jedi who keeps randomly popping up and propositioning him from rooftops.”

“Fear’s a powerful aphrodisiac,” Cody murmured, stroking his chin in thought.

“Speaking from experience there, marshal commander?” Fox lifted an eyebrow, “you’re still married to those wild warrior men in the Outer Rim.”

“Oh, yeah,” Wolffe cackled, “you should pay them a conjugal visit soon.”

“Fuck you, Wolffe,” Cody snapped, flushing.

“No thanks, brother,” Wolffe smirked. The marshal commander rolled his eyes.

“Most of the shinies in my legion have a major crush on the general,” Monnk sighed, cushioning his cheek against Thorn’s shoulder with a yawn. “Very hard to lead drills when Fisto’s strolling around without a shirt on in the background. My medics are sick of dealing with nosebleeds and groin injuries.”

“Everybody has a crush on Kit Fisto,” Gree shrugged.

“Except the one guy that he’s actually trying to win over,” Monnk eyed Fox who was fiddling distractedly with the bright pink umbrella in his wimpy, non-alcoholic drink. It was mostly sugar, juice, and food coloring.

“All hail the King of Darts,” Bacara’s tired voice announced from behind. Wolffe turned and found him standing there with Kenobi, looking like he’d just gone through a power cycle in an industrial washing machine. Obi-Wan didn’t have a single hair out of place. Monnk beckoned Bacara over and Bly handed him some water.

“Cards, anyone?” Ponds asked brightly.

* * *

“Wait, so who’s your favorite Jedi?” Ponds prompted Kenobi.

Wolffe wasn’t sure how they ended up on the topic of ranking favorites, but the card game had come to an end after the senator and Cody teamed up and shamelessly stole three consecutive wins. Now they were just drinking and chatting in a loose circle. Thire had passed out on the pool table, his legs dangling precariously over the edge, a blue billiard ball wedged uncomfortably under his chin.

“Well, I haven’t worked with all of them,” Obi-Wan murmured, “but I would have to say Master Plo Koon. He is very pleasant to be around, and extremely kind and generous to everyone.”

“Yes! Wolfpack all the way,” Wolffe crowed, high-fiving the smiling senator over Pond’s head.

“Favorite trooper?” Bly asked.

Kenobi’s expression softened as he brushed his knuckles over Fox’s bicep, “this one.”

The Coruscant commander kept his gaze firmly on the table, but he had turned the shade of his drink umbrella.

“Favorite senator, Fox,” Cody smirked, “gotta answer or take a shot, vod’ika.”

Fox’s gaze darted lightning quick to the expectant redhead next to him. Then, he grabbed Wolffe’s drink and swallowed it in one gulp. Stone rolled his eyes at Fox’s utter inability to emote like a functional member of society. Kenobi hid his amused smile behind his palm.

“Favorite Jedi?” Bly asked.

Fox blinked. “Don’t have one.”

“Pick one.”

“Fine. Plo Koon or Mace Windu.”

“Because they file exemplary paperwork,” Stone explained for his boss, shaking his head. “Fox has one of Mace Windu’s written reports framed in his office as a template he hands out to the shinies on their first day of work.”

“My general has a way with words,” Ponds agreed. “It is a rare gift.”

“Favorite brother?” Cody prompted.

“That’s easy,” This, Fox didn’t even bat an eye, “I hate you all equally.”

“Aww, adorable,” Cody cooed. He turned to Obi-Wan and stage-whispered, “it’s totally Wolffe, though.”

“Yeah, it’s me,” Wolffe sniffed dramatically, “my burden to bear.”

Fox rolled his eyes and hunched further down in his seat. They managed to force a few more drinks down Fox’s throat with some awful questions, but he was finally relaxing a little, so Wolffe wasn’t going to complain. Besides, Drunk Fox was the best thing ever to exist.

“You, ‘Cara,” Cody pointed a toothpick at the other marshal commander, “who’s your favorite Jedi?”

“My Jedi.”

“Nah. Gotta pick a different one.”

“Uh, the blue one with the truly fantastic rack.”

“Don’t speak about General Secura like that!” Bly said indignantly.

“That’s her name? Duly noted.”

“How do you still not know all the Jedi by name?” Wolffe frowned, “We’ve been fighting beside them for two years now.”

“I can’t even tell my teammates apart half of the time," Bacara shrugged, "It doesn’t help that we all have the same faces. You guys’ names are all I can remember.”

“Ok, what’s my name?” Ponds asked immediately.

“Bly.”

 _“I’m Bly,”_ cried Bly.

Fox snorted into his non-alcoholic drink, making the paper umbrella flutter.

Bacara groaned, “stop piling on me. I see so many people in a single day it’s impossible to learn them all.”

“Fox oversees the entire military police and he can still keep track,” Wolffe pointed out with a smirk, steepling his fingers like all the classic villains in those holomovies he’d watched with Cody, “don’t mind me, just fanning the flames of discourse over here.”

“That’s because that giant stick lodged up his ass is an extra memory cartridge capable of storing those names,” Bacara muttered, “I say this with love, Fox’ika, but you are the droid of clones.”

“What does that even mean?” Gree asked.

“It means he has zero personality,” Cody translated.

“Boys, play nice,” Kenobi said, using his formal senator voice as he reached over and pulled Fox into a hug. To Wolffe’s surprise, Fox went willingly without protest. His eyelids fluttered sluggishly a few times.

“Wait, he’s drunk already?” He asked, “did one of you dicks drug him?”

“Nope, but everyone’s been taking turns spiking his juice,” Cody shrugged, reaching over and carding his hand through the soft fluffy curls on Fox’s head. He leaned into Cody’s touch like an affectionate cat. “Man, I wish we could get him drunk all the time.”

“That’s called alcoholism, Codes,” Bacara reminded.

“Yeah, he’s a cuddly drunk,” Wolffe explained to the fascinated senator. “It’s pretty awesome.”

* * *

“Wolffe,” Fox mumbled, his face mashed into the side of Wolffe’s neck.

“I’m here,” He replied, strategically placing another chip onto the board. Fox’s fingers inched up his face and prodded at Wolffe’s moving mouth.

“You have a stupid face,” The head of the Coruscant Guards slurred, peering up at his side profile.

“Hate to break it to you, vod'ika, but we share the same looks,” Wolffe replied without missing a beat. Colt made his move, terminating Wolffe’s sneaky strategy for a quick victory.

“Oh no,” Fox breathed, sucking in a horrified gasp and patting down his own face, _“I’m hideous.”_

Kenobi let out a surprised laugh.

“Ok, hurtful and uncalled for,” Wolffe scowled, nipping at the fingers trying to pry his jaw open. Fox jabbed his thumb into Wolffe’s cheek in retaliation, hiked a leg over the other commander’s hip, and wriggled closer.

“Amazing, huh?” Cody nudged Obi-Wan with a smirk. “Sadly we only get to see him like this once a year.”

“He seems most attached to Commander Wolffe,” Kenobi observed, still smiling.

“I’m his phavorite,” Wolffe confirmed around the finger in his mouth. He batted Fox’s pesky hand away and smoothed back some of the flyaway curls before dropping his chin on top of that silky head of hair. “We shared the same sleeping pod until he got assigned to the Guard track.”

He suddenly felt a stab of nostalgia. Fox had been so small, his huge eyes taking up half of his face. All skinny limbs and knobby knees. _Wolffe’s shadow,_ the vode used to call him. And then the Kaminoans and the Republic had ripped his little brother away and twisted him into the frigid, self-deprecating bitter husk of a man that now ruled the military police with an iron fist.

“Wolffe.”

“Hmm.”

“I don’t care that you’re ugly,” Fox told him sincerely. Cody snorted at Wolffe’s massive eye roll. Fox yawned, his jaw cracking. He closed his eyes, “Just…don’t leave again.”

“Please tell me someone got that on tape,” Wolffe said, tightening his arm around the repressed idiot.

“You know he’s gonna deny it to the end of time and retaliate with paperwork,” Cody pointed out.

“Too bad, he’s stuck with me for life,” Wolffe muttered, swooping in for the kill. Colt groaned in defeat and forked over his credits. “Maybe after that, I’ll find a way to become the most annoying ghost and haunt Fox for the rest of eternity.”

Cody smoothed a thumb over a faded bruise over Fox’s cheekbone. “Honestly, I don’t think he’d mind.”

* * *

Wolffe woke to the sight of a very familiar ceiling. He’d been thrown onto his back too many times during their sparring sessions not to recognize the interior decoration in Kenobi’s private apartment. There was something heavy squatting on his chest and his mouth tasted like a tauntaun had taken a hot steaming dump in it. Wheezing from the effort of lifting his head off the carpet, Wolffe squinted down at the thing pinning him to the ground.

It took his hungover brain a few seconds to figure out it was Fox that was passed out on top of him. He spotted what looked like Bacara’s tattooed arm a few paces off. The rest of him was presumably attached, unless they’d gotten so wasted they hacked the marshal commander’s limb off. That was a possibility, however small.

“Rise and shine, boys!”

Kenobi’s voice sliced through the blissful silence like a thermal detonator. Fox flailed to life like a landed fish, his sharp elbow nailing Wolffe’s family jewels with deadly accuracy. He doubled over in silent agony, tears welling in his dry, crusty eyes.

“Why ‘m I in a dress?” Cody groaned, crawling out from behind the couch. He had on a fancy crimson and bronze headdress as well. And eyeliner and lipstick. The tight top of the tube dress strained across his pecs.

“Oh, that’s one of Padmé's senate gowns. She’s storing some of her garments in my apartment,” Obi-Wan explained, stepping neatly over Ponds, who looked like he’d crossed over to the other side already. “You look very nice, marshal commander.”

Cody moaned and collapsed facedown in the carpet. Wolffe heard the sound of ripping fabric. The flimsy dress had split down the seam over Cody’s muscled ass. Fox made a noise of disgust and averted his eyes. His hair was a tangled mess. It was also platinum blonde now.

“Oh Gods,” Wolffe croaked. He patted himself down and was grateful nothing seemed missing. Wait, was that a fanged earring in his left ear?

“What happened?” Bly whispered, still flat on the floor. “How did we get here?”

“Commander Fox, I’m running late for my morning briefing with the Chancellor,” Kenobi said, gliding elegantly into view again. He was fiddling with the sleeve of his left cuff. How was he functioning like he hadn’t consumed the most alcohol out of all of them last night?

“Food is in the kitchen, please eat something,” He continued with his instructions, “I will see you all later. I had a blast yesterday. Thank you for inviting me, Commander Wolffe.”

Wolffe flapped a hand in acknowledgment. His voice box seemed to have quit.

The door slammed shut, leaving the majority of the GAR senior clone command lying in various states of comatose on Kenobi’s apartment floor.

“Ok, which one of you assholes pierced both of my nipples last night?” Bacara asked in the silence.

“How are we going to get out of here without attracting any attention?” Gree questioned, his forehead pressed against the floor-to-ceiling window of Kenobi’s 500 Republica loft. Coruscant was already awake and bustling with activity.

 _“Guys, I think Puddles is dead,”_ Bly’s hoarse voice announced.

“I wish I was,” mumbled Ponds, staring blankly at the ceiling. "My butt hurts."

“Don’t worry. I’m going to kill you all,” Fox vowed darkly. He clapped a hand over his mouth and gulped a few times, “once…the w-world stops spinning.”

Wolffe closed his eyes and embraced the sweet, sweet oblivion that quickly followed.

**Author's Note:**

> Fox collects miniature snow globes and random knick knacks from across the galaxy. Kit found out after visiting his office, so he remembers to buy one for him whenever he has a chance. 
> 
> Now the commanders are gonna have an excuse to call him Silver Fox. lol
> 
> WE NEED MORE KIT FISTO CONTENT, GUYS! HE'S SUCH A GOOD DUDE.


End file.
